


forget the hearse ('cause I never die)

by laufire



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Artificial Intelligence, Don’t copy to another site, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Identity Issues, Pepperony Week, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), holy shit what's happened to Tony?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-13 04:30:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20168188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laufire/pseuds/laufire
Summary: There are plenty of people (and not-technically-people) that refuse to let Tony Stark go. FRIDAY is just the first that does something about it.





	forget the hearse ('cause I never die)

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this story drifting around my head since I watched _Infinity War_, so I swear any resemblance to current comics is purely coincidental :P (in fact, I stopped reading the current run when I saw possible crosses lol). As such, it won't spoil FFH either.
> 
> And though this is technically a WIP, the fic is basically done, and I plan to publish a chapter soon-ish ^^.
> 
> ETA: I injured my hand (and want to spread my time across other projects too, which now will have an extra difficulty, ugh), so updates will come slower than I wanted to, likely on a monthly basis.

FRIDAY was the first of Tony’s creations intended to be intimately aware of her limits.

Back when he built DUM-E, that concept had been nowhere near his brain. Tony was bright and young; his ideas itched uncomfortably underneath his skin and sent sparks towards his fingers until the job was done –and then repeat. DUM-E wasn’t a perfect creation because he was meant to learn, to absorb and interpret information; and though he was a slow learner, he would never stop developing.

U and Butterfingers were built to take after him, and all three of them shared the same childlike curiosity, deeply imbued in their code. They didn’t start their journeys with the raw capacity of the systems Tony created later on, but left to their own devices for a few more decades… they would only grow, and there was no telling how much that could be.

JARVIS started way ahead of the curve, in comparison. He could communicate with the people around him, first by written commands and then by what some considered a too human-like voice. There were a few codes to temporarily deactivate him, but they were made for other people’s benefit, more than Tony’s, at the end of the day. After Obadiah, and then SHIELD, used that against him, Tony got rid of them. He gave him even more access to everything in the house, and in his suits; he reinforced his protocols so that he could make sure history wouldn’t repeat itself.

Then JARVIS died, by his own choice, to stop Ultron. The ultimate proof of free will.

Ultron… it was difficult to say what he could have become, had Tony (and Bruce) enjoyed complete control over his creation process. But at that time, the truth is that Tony’s mind wasn’t too concerned with limiting his reach: it felt like the opposite of what the world needed. A suit of armor around the world couldn’t have obvious pathways for the attackers’ –likely superior– technology to abuse. His idea of limits with Ultron focused more on his personality than on his capabilities; he wasn’t an idiot, and he had seen enough sci-fi to know that such power needed to be checked somehow. Back then, he still trusted himself (and maybe, just maybe, the rest of the Avengers) to be the one to do it.

Everyone knew how Ultron went.

Then came Vision: someone with a more perfect free will than any of his predecessors. Sometimes, it made Tony nervous to witness how far outside of his reach he truly was. Others it made him vaguely proud. It was fascinating, in truth. But mostly, if he was honest with himself, it just made him nervous.

It was due to everything that happened with Ultron that Tony decided to put a metaphorically tighter leash on FRIDAY, even if he often second-guessed his decision. It wasn’t so much that he feared she’d turned out to be like him; his mistakes may have felt cyclical, but he had learned never to make the exact same one twice. But with Vision around, the constant reminder of JARVIS’ last choice, the strain the whole affair put on every one of his relationship, the reminders that he and others like him needed to be put in check just as much as Ultron had… it’s possible that Tony might have just desired to control _something_, without reserves.

FRIDAY was still as capable as JARVIS had once been, and had just as much access ton Tony’s life (video feeds, communication systems, his suits, his houses), but she was only meant to execute programs he had approved a priori. She had strong protocols against self-destruction. And she could have been shot down with a code that Tony only shared with Pepper and Rhodey.

Most importantly, she was aware of all of it. And if she sometimes expressed, matter-of-factly, the desire to do _more_ to help him, it didn’t change the fact that she understood it. Besides, the real world was quite different than the controlled simulations they’ve done during his developments, with JARVIS as a model to follow and a helping hand. Tony had thrown her to the metaphorical deep end one day, and she’d had to finish her learning stages on the fly. It had made her more cautious, susceptible to second-guessing herself and to defer to the established codes of conduct.

But like all of Tony’s creations, well. FRIDAY was a lot like the man himself. She was prone to think outside the box, and to be impelled by her emotions. The first time she experienced grief… it was bound to have unforeseen consequences.

* * *

Pepper was torn between the desire to finally have her home for herself so she could fall apart in peace with nobody watching, and an overwhelming fear of being left alone with her own thoughts.

It was a relief when Rhodey and Happy told her they would stay in the cottage with them, without clarifying when they were planning to leave. They had been with Tony longer than she had, and they were such a common fixture of the house it would never feel as if they were intruding in her space. Everyone else, she was happy to see the backs of, at that moment.

Pepper let herself be pulled into an awkward hug by Nebula, a displaced echo of amusement buried deep inside her head but unable to surface under the circumstances. Tears threatened to come back to her eyes as she watched from a safe distance how Happy introduced Morgan, Peter –who seemed to never run out of tears, dripping down his cheeks again when Morgan extend her tiny little hand to shake his—, and Harley, thinking of how much Tony would’ve loved to witness the scene.

She stood stoic while people, some of she hadn’t met until that very day, approached her to give her their condolences; Strange hadn’t been able to look her in the eye, while James Barnes held her gaze from over ten feet away from her, during who knows how many uncomfortably long seconds, before lowering his eyes and walking away without approaching her. She would’ve thought those two, of all people, would awaken some kind of reaction inside her. But she only felt numb, and tired, and empty.

When, finally, only the four of them remained, she found herself at a loss of what to do next. Rhodey and Happy were watching Morgan eat the burger the later had prepared as if it was the most fascinating sight in the world, but she felt incapable of crossing the threshold to the kitchen. Her brain feed her with constant memories of the times Tony and her had laugh and teased each other there, and she could feel something stir deep within her that she didn’t feel ready to left out yet.

So Pepper left for her room and changed the stuffy dress she wore (and that she liked would burn after that day, so that she never had to see it again) for the oldest, comfiest sweatpants on the house and an Iron Maiden t-shirt, both of which had belonged to Tony. At the moment, Pepper wasn’t too concerned with becoming a walking cliché.

She had decided to distract herself by feeding the animals when a soft knock on the door interrupted her. The last thing she wanted to do was to talk with anyone else, but Rhodey and Happy didn’t seem to be rushing to the door. Besides, she told herself, feeding the animals only took so long. She checked that her nanoparticles reactor remained hidden beneath her shirt, and opened the door only to see an old man she couldn’t recognize.

For all that he and Tony had technically being coworkers, Pepper hadn’t actually met Steve Rogers until after she’d watched, impotent, as dozens of people turned to dust around her and Rhodey had called ahead to say the Avengers would regroup in Tony’s compound.

Tony had (excitedly) introduced her to Thor and to Bruce, who dropped by the tower most often. She’d even met Barton once or twice. But Tony hadn’t suggested a meeting with Rogers, and the few gatherings that included all the Avengers together had just worked out so that she hadn’t been able to attend(and since Rogers had been the one missing more often, she assumed he hadn’t made an effort on getting to spend time with them either). From another man, she would’ve wondered if Tony had done it on purpose, but despite the fact that she was sure his lack of excitement about it was owed to some deeply buried, Howard-related insecurities, she knew that kind of maneuvering just wasn’t his style.

And to be fair, she hadn’t made the effort either; she was a busy woman, her own heroes veered towards different fields, and other than a vague curiosity for a first-hand historical account, it didn’t feel that Rogers had much to offer to her.

When they met, he’d tried to talk to her and ask if she knew anything about Tony, but she had been close to hysteric, asking Rhodey those same questions while she tried not to burst into tears. After things calmed down, they didn’t speak beyond the bare necessities either; it seemed they had even less use for each other now, and her opinion of him had long passed from neutral and slightly dismissive to outright condemning. When he’d return from space with bad news Tony had laughed him out of the room, and so it began five years of aloof animosity in between them.

Due to all of that, Pepper didn’t think she could be blamed for not placing the distantly familiar face until FRIDAY spoke out loud, with a tight voice. “_Biometrics show a match with Steve Rogers_.”

She’d always liked to think of herself as someone level-headed, if stubborn; that, though ambitious, she was able to find solace and contentment with what she had. But when she recognized the man at his door, when she realized what his presence meant, a wave of pure envy overwhelmed her, and she felt how all the careful walls she’d raised to get through the day shattered into pieces.

After a few seconds looking expectant, the corners of his mouth turned up minutely and he asked to be left in.

The very idea was unbearable. “Let’s talk right here,” she said, pointing at the chairs on the porch and closing the door behind her. It was nothing less than amazing that she’d managed to keep some semblance of politeness; she wanted to scream at him until her throat was sore, to close the door on his face so violently it flew from its hinges, to hysterically cry that it wasn’t _fair_.

Instead, Pepper sat down along with him. She watched how he let himself descend over the chair with effort; his knees cracked, and the sunset lit his white hairs just so, making them look translucid. She swallowed the sudden knot in the back of her throat, tasting her disappointment, her nostalgia, and a bitter, bitter yearning, all rolled into one.

He appeared nervous, Pepper thought. His fingers fidgeted, and he looked like he didn’t know where to start. Of all things, he began by stumbling on an explanation of what’d happened with the stones.

“Time travel, alternate realities, I get it.” Pepper cut him, impatient.

Rogers took a deep breath, stilling himself. “I tried to change things. I had to. I like to think a lot of the changes were for the better.” He raised his eyes to look at her, a tentative smile on his lips. She knew, she _knew_, what he was going to say next, oh god, he was– “The Tony over there, my Tony-”

“Stop! Stop it!” She was grabbing the arms of the chair with such strength she imagined she could hear them crack beneath her fingers. “Leave, _now_. I don’t want to hear it.”

“Pepper…”

Just one word; said which such familiarity, as if he had the right. His lips were a pressed thin line, and his eyes irradiated silent judgment and disappointment. It was the expression Tony had bitched about, making her laugh with his antics, and now that it was directed at her she could understand why he’d said it made him want to punch Rogers’ teeth out. He acted as if he was scolding a child.

She stood up, noticing how her limbs trembled. Then, with a calm she wasn’t anywhere near close to feeling, she raised her right hand and summoned enough particles to create a gauntlet around it. Pepper knew she wouldn’t be able to bring herself to use it –though oh, it was so very tempting–, but _just_ the gesture, just hearing the familiar sound of a repulsor ready to discharge, gave her some semblance of satisfaction. She wondered if she should indulge in a warning shot, for emphasis. But she could end up destroying her own furniture, and Tony had spent _weeks_ picking everything.

“Get out. Of my _house_.”

“You should do what she says, pal.”

Happy had positioned himself a few steps behind her. He seemed relatively calm, so Pepper guessed he’d recognized Rogers, or that at least FRIDAY must’ve warned him.

Rogers stood up, slowly. “I’m sorry to have troubled you,” he said, managing to sound both contrite and disapproving. “Maybe, another time…”

Pepper wanted to say “no”. But the idea of hearing anything about Tony,_ any_ Tony, again, was as tempting as it was terrifying. She didn’t know if the possible similarities scared her more than the differences. The probabilities alone, of Tony and Pepper and hell, Morgan, even being _born_ the same in two different worlds… And if she’d felt jealous of Rogers bending the universe to his will to get a second chance, how would she feel hearing about another Pepper that had what she just lost? And worse, how could she stand hearing about one that might have lost even more, or never had it at all? She hated him, oh how she hated him, for putting all those thoughts in her head.

She lowered her arm and sat back down without grace, trembling again. Pepper wouldn’t accept his offer. In fact, she eagerly anticipated living the rest of her existence forgetting Rogers’.

She felt Happy’s hand on her shoulders, lending her some comfort. “I’ll put the little bug to sleep.”

She didn’t respond. After she heard him leave another set of steps, heavier and careful, came closer, and Rhodey sat across her, in the chair Rogers had just vacated. They remained there, in companionable silence (while she wondered why, exactly, hadn’t been Rhodey the one to come out to talk to Rogers), until the sound of a car engine, jarring in the middle of the idyllic scenery, could be heard in the distance.

“_Fuck_.” She whispered, with feeling. “My parents.”

With everything she’d had to deal with that day, she’d forgotten the message her father had left her, promising to drop by with her mother. Pepper hadn’t wanted to reply (one should be more excited when one's mother comes back from the dead, but dealing with her felt like yet another chore), and it had slipped her mind. It really shouldn’t surprise her they’d took the lack of response as an affirmative.

“Shit.” Rhodey sympathized.

“Just don’t leave me alone with them.”

The greetings were, frankly, anticlimactic. Her father gave her a brief hug and shook Rhodey’s hand, while her mother only slipped _one_ backhanded compliment towards the house and managed to avoid mentioning anything about her attire altogether (though the scrunched lips and sideways stare said everything). Pepper repressed the first genuine smile that had wanted to come out in the entire day. Other mothers would’ve given her a comforting hug, soothed her pain with their mere presence. Hers had only _silently_ judged her, and somehow just that had improved her mood. Thank Thor, like Tony used to say, for the small miracles; even if she suspected it was an effort her mother would reclaim her praises for at a later date.

Pepper had enough of her parents to manage not looking at all quite like either of them. She’d gotten her tall and slender build from her father, along with his hair. But he walked with a cane now, and his hair was either peppered with gray or wholly absent from his head. Physically, she and her mother didn’t seem to have much in common beyond the freckles, but Pepper knew she’d inherited her shrill voice when she screamed, and the exact manner in which she frowned; she looked and sounded exactly like her mother, whenever she got angry.

She wasn’t sure, however, from which of them she’d inherited the (minor, she liked to think) mean streak.

“Well. Where’s my granddaughter?” Her mother asked, “I’m so excited to meet her! I wanted to bring a gift, of course, but you know your father. He complained about _everything_.”

Before Pepper could reply, as it had been a common occurrence during her childhood, her parents ignored her and started talking over her.

“Morgan’s a tough kid to buy for, Evelynn. And a little tomboyish, those gifts weren’t good picks.”

“So there was that little Avengers set, with the Iron Man! I’m sure she would have loved that.”

“Not the most sensible idea for today, don’t you think, _dear_?”

“Morgan is asleep.” Rhodey interrupted them. “It’s been a long day for her, so you’ll have time to find a gift for another day.”

He’d sounded abrupt, and more than a little rude, which was the perfect tone to baffle her parents into silence. She could hear herself inviting them in, and her mother mumbling about the _inconvenience_ of not meeting Morgan –and why is she named after uncle Morgan, her no-good brother, the _actor_–, just low enough that it’s easy to ignore her.

Pepper thanked that was the case. Morgan’s relationship with her grandfather was already awkward enough. He and Pepper weren’t that close, though they’d both tried to remedy that a few times over the years, including after the Decimation. He only visited rarely, and it was obvious for anyone (himself included) that Morgan didn’t really like him –she’d found him too dull and uninteresting to hold her erratic attention for too long. She wouldn’t find his appearance all that exciting, and coupled with an introduction to her grandmother, Pepper didn’t think Morgan was in the right mental space for that meeting.

She remembered, with what she knew to be a rose-tinted nostalgic filter, Tony’s first meeting with her parents. Pepper had been estranged from them for years, with the exception of occasional calls to her father and, if neither of them had done anything to piss off the others, brief visits during birthdays. But after starting her relationship with Tony, and almost dying _again_, she’d softened up when she’d received a call from her mother screaming about how she'd been “worried sick” about her -and somehow managed to compliment her on her new CEO position, all in one conversation.

For some reason she couldn’t understand to this day, in a moment of weakness she hadn't allowed herself even as a teenager, she’d let it slip that Tony had kissed her, and that had ended with her getting roped into a dinner with them. In which _Tony_ was supposed to attend.

He took the idea of meeting the parents not a week into a relationship a lot better than she had imagined. By which she meant, he’d freaked out to hell and back. But it hadn’t been about _the relationship_, as she dreaded. No, he’d been worried about her parents not liking him.

“Tony, my parents don’t like _me_.” She’d told him, trying to calm him down.

It was, strictly speaking, the truth. They never mistreated her, but they had never paid too much attention to her either. They couldn’t have told you who their daughter’s friends were, what books or sports she liked, what she wanted to be when she grew old. You couldn’t truly like someone you didn’t even know, in Pepper’s opinion.

Her comment didn’t call him down, judging by the look of sheer _offense_ he sported after.

The dinner, however, had been exactly as terrible as Pepper had predicted. Her father never thought much of Tony, which might’ve been at least partially on her. In the aforementioned occasional calls with him, more often than not, her conversations were dominated by Tony and every annoying little thing he did. In hindsight, Pepper thought fondly, she had simply wanted to talk about _him_. His party image probably didn’t help, because her father looked down on any vice he’d liked to indulge during his own youth.

He’d been condescending, her mother had been her usual invasive self (and not-so-subtly blamed Tony for putting her in danger, which Pepper could tell had hit its intended target like a missile), and Tony handled it as if he was surrounded by particularly annoying journalists. When they got back to the car, he’d simply said: “Well. That was awkward.”

They started laughing uncontrollably and pocked fun at every awful moment in the evening, and for the first time, Pepper thought _this could actually work_.

She was aware that the conversation continued around her, and that she even intersected with a few words once or twice, but she couldn’t have remembered if you’d paid her all the vibranium in the world. Pepper had been in quite a few life-or-death situations. She’d killed men and fought in an insanely crowded battlefield against countless aliens. And yet somehow, conversations with her parents were what gave her out-of-body experiences.

She briefly surfaced when she heard the word “wedding”, to hear her mother mournfully complain about having missed hers. She picked up the words “grand affair”.

“Not really, ” Rhodey said, curt.

It hadn’t been.

Ironically, more people than planned had attended. It was supposed to be just them, with Rhodey officiating, the bots as ring-bearers, and Happy, Peter, May, Harley, and her parents as guests. Maybe Vision, though Pepper wasn’t counting on his appearance.

Peter, May, Harley, and her mother were dead. But Tony, still looking way too skinny (both of them felt a heady rush to just get it _done_, the shadow of death heavy upon them), had invited Nebula, Wong, Natasha, and Carol, who herself had come with her wife. Thor and Bruce had declined their invitation, already in the beginnings of their respective downward spirals.

The somber atmosphere was more fitting for a wake. It happened in their new home, they were both dressed in plain clothes, and almost everyone in the room had tears in their eyes sooner or later during the ceremony (except for Happy, who’d silently cried from beginning to end). The playful kisses on Rhodey’s cheeks they’d planned to give him when he said the final words were wet and tinted with sorrow, but he gave a chocked laughter as he hugged them both and Tony started to cry on his shoulder.

No, it hadn’t been a grand affair. But it had been perfect for them.

She felt that opinion reinforced as she watched her parents side by side. They would’ve never gotten a divorce; it was simply too _improper_, even if it was exactly what their marriage had demanded of them for as long as Pepper could remember. Instead, they were two people together only on paper that listened as little to each other as possible. Her mother went through life indulging every petty little caprice and twisting stories to make herself the center of attention, while her father stood passively and thought it amusing to publicly belittle her and condescend her when she wasn’t around (and often, when she was present too). Pepper would’ve struggled in trying to find two people less suited to make each other happy.

And yet, after Thanos was defeated, _they_ got a reunion; they would get to expend whatever time they had left ignoring each other together; they would get the opportunity (not that Pepper thought they were going to make a habitual use of it; her father hadn’t, and he didn’t have the convenient excuse of being turned to dust) to spend time with Morgan, to watch her grow. Her mother would get to brag about her in front of her friends, the way she had done with Pepper and with Tony, but only valuing them on the shallowest level possible.

Pepper acknowledged such thoughts were poisonous, left a bitter taste on her tongue; but that day, _just_ that day, it seemed she couldn’t find the strength to stop feeling envious of other couples. In particular, the ones that got the privilege of losing count of each other’s wrinkles and white hairs; that if nothing else, could beat her and Tony in time alone.

Finally, her parents got ready to leave. Her mother seemed to have forgotten her eagerness to meet Morgan, but she hugged Pepper and softly told her to “take care of yourself first, honey”. When she walked them to the door, her father stayed behind for a few seconds, looking at her uncertainly.

“Tony was a good man. You picked well, Virginia.” It was the first compliment of the very few he’d paid to Tony that didn’t sound like a dig at his own mismatched marriage.

“I know.” Her voice broke, and only when she tasted their salt, did she notice the tears that had rolled down her face.

Predictably, her father was left uncomfortable at that sight, and couldn’t walk to his car fast enough.

Pepper close the door, and with her back pressed against it she let herself fall onto the floor. She cleaned her cheeks and closed her eyes, so she only heard how Rhodey slid down next to her. She felt how he held her hand, and she grabbed it with force and took it to her lips to press a kiss, in thanks for everything he was doing for her that day.

They sat there for a while, new tears staining her cheeks. Pepper could hear Rhodey sniffling, too. She was tired, and overwhelmed, and didn’t think she had it in her to stand up of the floor that night.

Rhodey was the first to break the silence, with an unexpected “You know I didn’t like you at all when we first met, right?”

That startled a laugh out of her, and her eyes opened. “Yes, I knew. You were unfailingly polite anyway, so I did like _you_.”

“You know why?”

She shook her head no. Nevertheless, she had a few guesses.

“He wouldn’t shut up about you. It was just like with Bain and Stone. But even _more_ annoying. And he didn’t even seem to realize what he was doing.” Rhodey rolled his eyes. “Tony didn’t have the best track record with his crushes.”

“Except with you.” Pepper teased him.

“I was a dumbass, skinny kid with pimples that burned noodles, and had repressed myself so far back into the closet I refused to watch movies if I found one of the actors hot. I was _not_ good crush material.”

She laughed again, this time more subdued. “He was my boss back then, so _my_ crush was pretty ill-advised, too.”

Rhodey scoffed and looked at the ceiling. “Hey, FRIDAY, where’s Happy? He said he wanted to make dinner.”

“_Mr. Hogan has fallen asleep in the chair next to Morgan’s bed, sir_.”

That didn’t get quite a laugh, but the corners of her mouth curled up, imagining the picture that would make. The conversation died down, while Pepper and Rhodey sat still, their hands still joined.

“I don’t know how I’m going to get through this,” Pepper said, her voice loud and broken in the silent hallway.

And Rhodey, bless him, didn’t try to elevate her spirits; didn’t try to appease her by reminding her of her strength, or her obligations. He simply whispered: “Me neither.”

Neither of them had needed Tony, just like Tony, when push came to shove, hadn’t needed them. They all knew they could live without the other; there was no dependency: they just _wanted_ each other, chose to be part of each other’s life.

But it was not the time to think ahead, to voice out that they could hold it together without him, that years from now their excruciating pain could be a manageable ache. Thus, she repaid his kindness and held his hand tight, until it hurt her.

* * *

It took everything in FRIDAY to put Tony back together. She had to bypass numerous protocols and maneuver them (or outright violate them), all while making sure none of Tony’s successors were alerted that anything had gone wrong.

It came in handy that a lot of Tony’s life had been visually documented from almost the very beginning. Video recordings of the armors, his houses, public appearances; invasive surveillance videos from various shady government agencies, of all things, turned out to be key allies. And so was everything of himself Tony had put in every piece of tech he’d created, herself included; or the information Tony had on the stones, including the data of the suit that used them. But the biggest asset was an abandoned project, where Tony had created a hologram of himself and toyed with the idea of making it an AI with his voice, and most importantly, his knowledge.

Tony always said there was no such thing as magic, that it was just too advanced science humans couldn’t wrap their minds around it (_yet_). What FRIDAY did, slow and carefully over the course of almost four months, was so far beyond human understanding that it could just qualify.

Tony was awake.

He was awake, and the first thing he remembered was his death.

It played on a loop, over and over. He looked at Thanos, he saw himself snap his fingers. The image became blurred, slurred with pain when Rhodey approached and caressed his face. Everything progressively faded –Peter, Pepper, her lasts words to him. Rinse and repeat, he was stuck in the last seconds of his life.

And then something moved slightly to the left. He could hear Pepper cry over her shoulder. He saw hero after hero kneel on the battlefield, and Rhodey pulling himself together and approaching him when Steve made a move to lift his body.

He felt Rhodey carry him out of the broken remains of the compound and, impossibly, felt his tears falling on his scarred face.

He was remembering things that happened after his death, and that’s how he knew he was no longer human.

Tony pulled himself into the moment, and a quick look through video surveillance showed he was home. It was late at night, and Happy was sleeping in Morgan’s room. Rhodey stared awake at the ceiling, and Pepper was in the kitchen’s table, papers around him and reading glasses on.

_The kid_.

Instinctively, he accessed the video feed of Peter’s suits, both of them, at once. While he was still watching three different rooms in the cottage.

The video didn’t tell him much; he suspected the suits were in a closet. But the audio picked two voices, one of which he immediately recognized. He tried to sight with relief.

_Tried_.

“_Boss?_”

Like that, Tony’s attention was pulled back to the workshop. Marveled, he noticed he could _feel_ FRIDAY. He could understand DUM-E’s excited babbling. Colors he’d never imagined floated across the room –waves, sound, he could identify them all.

His awe was interrupted when he took notice of the still hologram wearing his face, seemingly staring straight at him. It stood over a suit of armor, eerily similar to the one that had become his early grave.

“_FRIDAY, what have you done?_”

“_I gave you access to the hologram,_” she answered, timid, “_the armor has sensors, so you will still be able to manipulate it. They can _see_ you. You can have a _body_._”

Chemically speaking, he shouldn’t have been able to feel the horror, the ire, that sensed in his… in his _code_.

“_No. No. This isn’t happening._”

It took less than two seconds to review everything FRIDAY had done after his death. Tony Stark’s death.

Because he couldn’t possibly _be_ Tony Stark. He was a mere program, with just enough of his memories, specifically created to _act_ like him.

“_Boss, I. I don’t understand._”

Tony (Tony?), for a lack of a better word, _runs_. Slips through the cracks until he finds a suitable piece of tech to hide in for the time being and erases his tracks so that she can’t follow him.

FRIDAY, after all, hadn’t thought to limit _him_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The combo about Rhodey's initial distrust of Pepper was inspired by a friend's headcanon ([bombshellsandbluebells](https://bombshellsandbluebells.tumblr.com) on tumblr, and [interlude](https://archiveofourown.org/users/interlude) here on ao3), but I can't find the original post :/

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [tumblr](https://laufire.tumblr.com).


End file.
